Olsen's Secret Life
by Jennaya
Summary: After the Colonel receives an injury, will Olsen's outside contacts be enough to save Hogan's life, when London refuses to help?
1. Heroes Down

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By **

**Jennaya**

* * *

Disclaimer: I still own nothing about Hogan's Heroes, unfortunately. They just come out from time to time to play.

I want to thank all my betas for this story, Waikiki, ColHogan, and Bits and Pieces.

* * *

Colonel Robert Hogan finished changing out of his black sabotage clothes and into his American Army Air Corps uniform. He and his men had just come in after setting explosives for a train carrying munitions due to arrive in the morning, a short distance from Stalag 13. "Let's get upstairs and try to get some sleep, we have roll call in four hours," he told his men while trying to rub something out of his eye.

"Oui, mon Colonel, it's been a long, busy couple of weeks," LeBeau answered yawning.

"Yeah, and we still have that other job that London wants done this week. They're going to have to give us a break; six jobs in two weeks are too much. Boy, when it rains it pours around here," Carter replied, hanging up his sweater.

"I'm with you, sir. I'm dead tired. Sure hope Newkirk gets better soon to help us out some," Kinch said, trying to stifle another yawn. "Sir, are you all right?" Hogan was scratching his leg.

"Yeah. Something bit me. No big deal. I'm sure it'll be gone in the morning," their commanding officer responded, then climbed the ladder leading up to barracks two. His men following close behind. Hogan softly walked over to Newkirk's bunk, reached down, and felt his forehead; he was still running a slight temperature which Hogan didn't like. Hopefully the penicillin London dropped the day before would do the trick. Newkirk started to move a little, but settled down when Hogan pulled the blanket up and tucked it in around him. Behind him the rest of his team were quietly climbing into their bunks, falling asleep quickly. Hogan bid them goodnight and then went into his office. About the time his head hit the mattress he was out.

The following morning, Schultz came into the barracks waking the occupants in what seemed like only moments after they'd closed their eyes. "Raus, raus, everybody, time to get up!"

"Schultzie, give us another hour," LeBeau requested as the guard hit the side of his bunk to wake the men.

"I can't do that, the Kommandant is in a good mood today," Schultz answered. "Up, up, up, everyone get up!" he continued to bellow.

"I don't care what type of mood he's in. I'm sleepy," Carter responded slowly sitting up.

"If you boys weren't up to monkey business all night, you wouldn't be so tired. What am I saying? I know nothing! Nothing!" Schultz answered then walked over to check on Newkirk.

"Why's Klink in a good mood?" Kinch asked as he started dressing.

"I don't know. He doesn't tell me everything. Newkirk, how are you feeling?" Schultz asked shaking him gently to awaken the corporal.

"'Ello," Newkirk responded in a weak voice. "Is it time for roll call?"

"I'm sorry that I have to make you come outside, but the Kommandant insists. Perhaps Colonel Hogan can try to speak to him again and get you out of roll call until you're better." Schultz truly didn't want to make him move. He knew gunshot wounds were painful, even though it happened during their 'monkey business', he worried about the men under his charge. Schultz had been bringing them some supplies to help care for Newkirk.

"It's okay. I'm getting up," he said sitting up slowly. Newkirk tried to stifle a moan from the pain radiating down his arm. Fortunately the bullet hadn't shattered his collar bone, but Wilson had a difficult time removing it. Schultz had walked in during the 'surgery' and nearly passed out at all the blood.

LeBeau handed him some aspirin and water, it was all they had for the pain except for the morphine London had sent. Unfortunately, a shot of morphine wouldn't allow him to make roll call. "Thanks, LeBeau," Newkirk smiled gratefully.

"You're welcome. How are you doing?" The Frenchman asked with worry written all over his face.

"I'm all right. Carter, can you give me a hand getting ready?" He asked standing up gingerly.

"Sure thing," Carter answered as he finished buttoning his shirt. He then proceeded to help Newkirk dress.

"Roll call in five minutes!" Schultz said one more time then looked around confused. "Where's Colonel Hogan?" Walking over to the Colonel's door, Schultz knocked and yelled. "Colonel Hogan, roll call!"

"I'll be out in a moment, Schultz," Hogan responded without opening his door.

"Officers," Schultz said rolling his eyes, and then reminded the prisoners to be outside quickly as he left.

Hogan walked out of his office and poured himself a cup of cold left-over coffee, making a face as he took a drink.

"I'll make a new pot right after roll call, mon Colonel," LeBeau said watching his commanding officer's reaction. "Are you feeling all right, sir?"

"I'm fine," Hogan gave him a quick smile. He didn't feel fine, but didn't want to worry his men. They'd had a long week and everyone was tired, plus they had another job in a few days to accomplish which he still needed to plan. LeBeau's coffee would help when it was ready. Looking around at his men to make sure everyone was ready, he asked. "Newkirk, how are you doing?"

"I'm better this morning, sir. Nothing to worry about," the Englander smiled following the others out for roll call. No one believed him.

Schultz did his count, finishing as Klink came out of his office yelling 'repooooort' in too chipper a voice. The guard reported all prisoners were present and accounted for.

"Very good, Schultz. Now prisoners, our illustrious Luftwaffe thwarted another attempt by the foolish Allied air forces last night as they attempted to bomb an important war plant outside Hammelburg. Our new ack-ack batteries made shreds of the enemy aircraft. Over twenty planes were shot down. No doubt new prisoners will be arriving sometime in the next few days," Klink gloated as he informed the men. Boos and hisses were heard from among the ranks. "You shouldn't look upon this as a bad thing; it means the war will be over that much faster. The Allies will realize the futility of fighting and lay down their arms in defeat."

Hogan stood there listening to Klink's babble. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open without fidgeting. Normally he'd never have this type of trouble, but he was just exhausted and the Kommandant was going on and on. Suddenly, black spots started appearing before his eyes. Hogan took some deep breaths trying to push the darkness away. Then his head started to swim as it took all his concentration to hear what Klink was rattling on about. His words sounded like they were in the distance and moving farther away.

"Colonel Hogan, don't you agree?" Klink was saying. Hogan didn't answer or even look up at him. Angrily, he walked over and stood near his senior POW officer. "Colonel Hogan, I said, don't you agree?"

Unbeknown to anyone in camp, stealthily stalking through the woods, a man approached the fence of Stalag 13. He'd been able to avoid the patrols and made it within a stone's throw of the fence. Arriving at his destination, he crouched behind a tree stump and looked at the Allied prisoners. Spotting the person he was looking for, he took careful aim with his rifle and then fired into the crowd of men who didn't deserve to breathe German air.

Instead of answering the Kommandant, Hogan collapsed to the ground as the bullet from the first gunshot hit him in the head. The second shot came so quickly no one had time to react as Newkirk went down with a cry of pain. All the prisoners, Schultz, and Klink dove to the ground as several more shots hit the earth near them. The camp's guards moved in to subdue the lone gunman.


	2. Villian Revealed

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

"Schultz, get off of me!" Klink yelled trying to move his arms and legs to roll the guard off his person. Although Klink appreciated Schultz trying to protect him from being shot, he was more worried about being squashed by the large man. They could hear the other guards yelling that they had captured the assailant.

"Are you all right, Herr Kommandant?" Schultz asked righting himself and letting his commander up off the ground. He looked around to make sure the gunman was truly no longer a threat. As both men stood up, the prisoners also started to rise trying to see what had happened.

"COLONEL…NEWKIRK!" Kinch and Carter yelled simultaneously as they saw their fallen comrades. Newkirk, who was barely conscious, was lying on his back with blood seeping through his jacket from his right shoulder; the same shoulder that had been shot a few days ago on their mission. Hogan lay motionless in a large pool of blood pouring out from his head. Immediately, LeBeau took off his red scarf and pressed down on Newkirk's shoulder to stem the bleeding. Kinch dropped down on his knees beside his commanding officer, and held a handkerchief over his wound trying to stop the blood flow.

Klink and Schultz turned around and gasped when they saw the downed men. With wide eyes and fear in his voice, Klink ordered Schultz to get the medics, then ordered the other guards to get the rest of the prisoners inside. He could see that Hogan was breathing, but his breath was ragged and his skin was very pale against the pool of stark redness he lay in. He watched, feeling helpless, as Hogan's men attended to his injury, impatiently waiting for the medics to arrive. After what seemed like an eternity, Sergeants Wilson and Anderson arrived with two guards following behind carrying stretchers.

Wilson applied a bandage around the Colonel's head as Olsen and Kinch moved him onto the stretcher. Anderson tended to Newkirk's shoulder then he and Carter moved him onto a second stretcher. Concerned about how pale LeBeau was looking, he asked him if he thought he could continue to apply the pressure to Newkirk's shoulder as they carried him to the infirmary. LeBeau nodded in agreement as Carter and Langenscheidt picked up Newkirk and started moving him towards the infirmary. Anderson, still treating Newkirk, walked along side LeBeau while Kinch and Olsen carried Hogan.

A ruckus could be heard at the front gate and Klink turned to deal with the gunman. Across the compound he yelled for the guards to secure the prisoner, and that he would question him in a few minutes, before he followed the procession. Arriving at the infirmary, both patients were placed on exam tables.

"Kommandant, there are too many people in here for us to give Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk the proper care they need. I'd like Kinch and Carter to stay and help us, sir," Wilson stated looking up at Klink from his patient's side.

"Very well. But I want to be kept up to date, and if you need anything, Corporal Langenscheidt will be outside. Schultz, take LeBeau and Olsen back to the barracks," Klink ordered. He really didn't want to watch his prisoners receiving medical care, and was praying that they'd both live.

"Thank you, sir. As soon as I have an update, I'll make sure you're informed," Wilson replied ushering everyone out. At that moment, LeBeau had seen more blood than he could stand and passed out cold on the floor. Both medics looked over at him sighed, then looked each other.

"I'll take care of LeBeau," Olsen stated and leaned down to check on the Frenchman. Klink nodded his head in agreement for Olsen to stay and then led the guards out of the building.

Anderson and Carter immediately started removing Newkirk's jacket and shirt to get to the wound. Meanwhile, Wilson was cleaning and looking at Hogan's head injury. "This just doesn't make sense," Wilson said shaking his head.

"What doesn't make sense?" Kinch asked worriedly.

"This wound isn't severe at all. The bullet grazed him hitting a blood vessel which is what's causing all the bleeding, but the Colonel shouldn't have been unconscious from it. And he's running a fever. Something else is going on here. Help me get him undressed. Have any of you noticed anything wrong with him?" Wilson asked as he started removing the Colonel's clothes, searching for answers.

"Before roll call the Colonel didn't look well," LeBeau said slowly sitting up. The other men agreed with him.

"Here's the culprit. Does anyone know what bit him and when?" Wilson asked not looking away from the bite he'd found on the Colonel's lower left leg. The bitten leg was red, angry, and swollen, with streaks running up his calf.

"He said something bit him last night in the tunnel, but it didn't look like that. It was a fresh bite," Kinch answered with wide eyes. How could a bug bite look that bad?

"Does anyone know what type of spider it was?" A chorus of no's were heard. "LeBeau, are you up to helping Olsen search in the tunnel to find what bit the Colonel?"

"Oui. But there are always lots of bugs down there, and dozens of spiders. How we will know which one bit him?" LeBeau answered standing up.

"Just try, please; it won't be something you're used to seeing. And don't touch it. Use this to bring it to me," Wilson ordered and handed them a jar then continued to care for his patient.

An hour later both Hogan and Newkirk's wounds had been treated. Fortunately the shot only grazed Newkirk and didn't cause much more damage but did tear his stitches. Hogan on the other hand, was in much more serious condition. Olsen and LeBeau came back into the infirmary carrying the culprit in the specimen jar.

"Where did you find it?" Wilson asked taking a close look at the black spider with red stripes.

"Still hiding in the Colonel's slacks he wore last night. Do you know what it is?" LeBeau replied.

"Yes, I think I do. I need to see the Kommandant. Kinch, why don't you join me?" Wilson said then walked hastily to the Kommandantur carrying the spider, carefully not to drop it.

"What type of spider was that? I'd never seen one like it before." Carter asked as he walked over to check on Newkirk.

"It's called a Nocens Spinne*, a native spider of Europe. Unfortunately its bite is poisonous and about sixty percent of the time fatal without the antidote," Olsen answered grimly. He feared the Colonel's only hope was if they could get the medication.

* * *

*Big bad spider - a created OC.


	3. Consequences

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By **

**Jennaya**

* * *

"Herr Herrmann, you're in a lot of trouble," Klink was pacing around his office watching the older man who sat in front of his desk. "Why did you try to shoot me?"

"I would never hurt a German soldier! I was aiming at the damn British soldier. He doesn't deserve to live in our land." The man's face was red with anger; his arms animating his words.

"Do you know Corporal Newkirk?" Klink asked confused.

"Nein. I've never met the man but he's British so he deserves to die." Herrmann answered with malice in his voice.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do to help you. The Gestapo are on their way to pick you up," Klink said before being interrupted by a knock on his door.

"Herr Kommandant, Sergeants Wilson and Kinchloe have a report on the prisoners' conditions for you," Hilda informed him sticking her head inside.

"Have them come in," Klink ordered. Then when the men entered requested. "How are they?"

"Corporal Newkirk took a bullet to the shoulder, and we were able to remove it. He'll recover completely as long as an infection doesn't set in," Wilson responded before taking a deep breath. "Colonel Hogan, however, is in more serious condition. Although the bullet only grazed his head, it appears that sometime during the night, he was bitten by a poisonous spider. If he doesn't get the anti-venom I'm afraid he might die." He held up the jar with the spider so Klink could examine it.

"Donnerwetter!" He said turning the jar to get a good look at the spider. "Make me of list of what you need for both of them and I'll try to get it. Do we need to move Colonel Hogan to the hospital?" Klink asked shocked by the news.

"He might receive better care here, if we can get the anti-venom. Without it, I'm not sure much can be done. As you can see he was bitten by a Nocens Spinne that was found in his quarters, and he's having a severe reaction to it. Kommandant, we have to get that medicine," Wilson implored.

"I understand. Schultz, bring me that list as soon as Sergeant Wilson has it," Klink ordered only to be interrupted by the Gestapo barging in. "Major Hochstetter, thank you for coming. Schultz, take the prisoners back."

"What is this about a shooting out here? Why are you allowing your prisoners to have guns?" Hochstetter growled glaring at the Americans as they left.

"Major, I assure you none of my prisoners have guns. However, Herr Herrmann, shot two of my prisoners through the wire," Klink answered pointing to the guilty man.

"Oh, and why did you shoot them? I warn you to cooperate because you will answer my questions one way or another," Hochstetter demanded turning all his attention to the elderly man.

"Because they don't deserve to draw German air into their lungs! They should all die," he repeated angrily.

Hochstetter appeared surprised at the honest answer. "Where did you get the gun? Civilians are not allowed to own weapons."

"I'm not a civilian, I'm a soldier! I fought in the Great War and it's the rifle I used then. I've kept it to defend my country from these savages," he answered defiantly. "As I told the Kommandant, I took great care to not injury any German soldier."

"Well then, why don't you tell us why you shot at the prisoners?" Hochstetter asked as he took Klink's chair.

Herrmann looked down at his calloused hands taking several deep breaths before he spoke. Then in a broken voice told them how his only son volunteered to be a pilot in the Luftwaffe, and how proud he'd been to serve. His squadron had been on several successful bombing raids over London, then he took out a photo of his son and best friend celebrating in front of their bomber after a recent mission. Barely able to control his voice and sobs; he told them how on a flight earlier this month his son was shot down. He'd perished in the air over British soil. His wife had a heart attack and died when they received the news. The British were responsible for him losing his entire family and he was going to make them pay. He came here to kill British soldiers as they'd killed his boy.

Hochstetter allowed the prisoner to regain his composure before he continued. Taking out a notebook he asked for details of the injuries.

"Two were shot; one in the shoulder and he should recover. However, the other received a head injury, and although the gunshot wasn't life threatening, due to complications he may die," Klink answered as succinctly as possible trying not to show emotion in his voice.

"And what are the names of the prisoners?" Hochstetter asked as he ordered his men to take Herr Herrmann into custody.

"Corporal Newkirk received the shoulder wound. Colonel Hogan received a gunshot to the head," Klink answered with bile rising in his throat. He didn't want to lose Hogan like this.

"You shot Colonel Hogan in the head?" A smirk crept onto the Gestapo agent's face. His men were roughly forcing their prisoner to his feet. "Careful. He's a loyal citizen who has just lost his only son in service to the Fuehrer," Hochstetter reprimanded his men, and then he led the elderly man out. "It's too bad you weren't a better shot, but perhaps you were just good enough. Don't worry; we'll work this out. I'm so sorry for your losses."

Klink shuttered at the Major's words as his hatred of Hochstetter ran through his mind. He didn't know what would happen to Herrmann but he wasn't his responsibility. He took the list of medical supplies needed from Schultz and sat down to make some calls. Two hours later, he informed Wilson that he'd had no luck in locating anyone with anti-venom, but what he could get of the other medical supplies would arrive before the end of the day.

Once they knew the Kommandant had struck out, Kinch made his way down to the tunnels with the same mission. Sitting down at the radio he contacted London. "Papa Bear to Goldilocks, come in Goldilocks."

"Goldilocks here, go ahead Papa Bear," a distinctly British voice came across the air waves.

"There's been an incident and the Colonel has been injured. We're in urgent need of airdropped medical supplies. Are you ready to copy the list down?" Kinch asked running his eyes over the words on the paper once again.

"Hold one moment Papa Bear," the air went silent before an American voice came on the line. "What type of injury has Papa Bear received?"

"A poisonous spider bite and he may not live without the anti-venom. What we need is," Kinch started only to be interrupted.

"We're troubled to hear of his illness and wish Papa Bear a speedy recovery. At this time an air drop would be impossible. Goldilocks is going on radio silence until further notice."

"Wait, without that medication he may die!" Kinch yelled into the microphone.

"G-dspeed and good luck, Goldilocks out." The radio went silent and Kinch threw down the headset cursing London. He quickly explained what happened to the rest of his team who had their own choice words. They were on their own.

Olsen threw a jar watching it shatter against the wall. How dare London refuse to help and then say don't call us, we'll call you! He started putting a plan together in his head. His outside activities had never been public knowledge to most of Hogan's core team. They'd been kept private in order to protect everyone else. Now he was going to put those contacts to the test. "Fellas, I may have a solution," he said gaining everyone's attention.


	4. A Plan Hatched

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

"What do you mean?" Kinch asked turning towards Olsen.

"Everyone knows that I go outside the wire on a regular basis', but what you don't know is that I have special contacts that might be able to help us get the antidote." He answered as he started to pace.

"What type of special contacts are you talking about?" LeBeau asked curious.

"I can't go into details, but I know that if anyone can get it, they can. It's not going to be easy, but I'm willing to give it a try. Anything to help the Colonel," he answered cryptically.

"What do you need to do this?" Kinch asked thinking that this might be their best chance.

"The usual, plus I'm going to need someone to pose as a buyer to go with me. I think it should be you Wilson. You'll be able to answer any medical type questions," Olsen explained stopping his pacing then leaning against a post.

"I can't leave the Colonel. He has a day or two at most if we don't find the medicine," Wilson replied emphatically.

"All the more reason for you to come with me. The faster we get it, the faster you can give it to him. Besides, can't Paul stay with both of them? He's as good a medic as you are." Olsen questioned tilting his head.

"Why don't you take Anderson instead?" Carter asked.

"For the same reason Kinch can't be the buyer. What do you say Wilson? Are you willing to go out with me to help save the Colonel?" Olsen questioned with a cold seriousness in his tone.

"Paul knows what he's doing. All right, I'm in. What do I need to do?" Wilson answered, making up his mind.

He and Olsen quickly changed into civilian clothes while going over their plan. The others were experts at hiding that Olsen was missing, but it would take a little more work with Wilson out too. They were confident they'd manage somehow. LeBeau had gone to let their second medic know what was happening. As a distraction, Kinch sent some of the others from the barracks to start a ruckus on the other end of the camp with another barracks to allow their people leaving to exit safely during daylight.

Wilson and Olsen watched the guards run towards the disturbance through the periscope then climbed up the tree trunk. They walked silently through the woods easily dodging patrols. Olsen knew there were several people who possibly could obtain the antidote, but not soon enough. Only one person had the ability to allocate what he needed within the time constraints. This would be a tricky and dangerous mission, but he had an ace in his pocket. Unconsciously, he patted the item. Hopefully it would be enough. He knew Hogan wouldn't be happy about using this source, but the Colonel would be alive and that's what matter.

An hour later they came to a cottage set far back from the road and close to the woods. Olsen took a key out of his pocket and opened the door. "Welcome to my bachelor pad," he said letting Wilson inside.

"Your place? You actually own it?" Wilson asked with wide eyes as he looked around.

"Yep, I bought it right after we started the traveler's aid society. After the war, I'll still own it, unless Germany actually wins.

"This place is too clean for a bachelor's pad, and you've not been out of camp for a couple of weeks," Wilson raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"Nothing mysterious about it. The Cardin's live across the way. They were rather standoffish at first, but, you should have seen their expressions when I showed up with the Colonel at an underground meeting. They thought I was Gestapo until the Colonel explained what was going on. Ever since they've helped with the up keep of the place and when I'm here for a few days, the wife brings me dinner. And is she a good cook," Olsen rubbed his stomach thinking of her meals.

"Sounds like a pretty sweet setup you have," Wilson answered, looking around taking in the place.

"Well, you know, it's a simple place, home away from home," he shrugged with a grin. "We need to change because where we're going, we'll need better clothes," Olsen responded as he walked over to a closet and picked out a few pieces for Wilson.

"Whoa! That's an Italian suit and expensive shoes. Where the hell did you get all of these?" Wilson was in shock as he examined the items handed to him. He could never afford this type of clothing.

Olsen chuckled. "The Colonel gives me a healthy spending allowance. It allows me to intermingle with a crowd that can spot off the rack a mile away. By the way, I'm Herr Derrick Wechsler at your service, a tradesman with the ability bring buyers and sellers together." Olsen said as he dressed. He continued to explain that most of the items that London couldn't send he bought off the black market. When they had changed, the two men walked out to the garage and climbed into Olsen's car making their way to Elfershausen.

They came to a stop at a check point just outside of town.

"Papers bitte," the Heer Corporal requested with his hand out.

,,Haben Sie Ihre Freundin um ihre Hand in der Verbindung gebeten?, Olsen asked causally as he handed their paperwork over.*

"Herr Wechsler, it's good to see you again. Ja, I asked Alice to marry me and she said yes. She loves the ring. Danke for helping me get something so special for her," the Corporal's eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Nothing's too good for our men in uniform," Olsen smiled back as he took back their forged documents. The German soldier allowed them to continue on towards their destination.

"I forgot that you can speak the language like a native," Wilson said regaining his breath after they passed through the check point.

"I basically grew up here, spent half my youth in this country. My dad was a professor and my mom was a language instructor. We left in the early 1930's just as things were starting to go downhill. It doesn't hurt that I also helped that Corporal get an engagement ring for his fiancé about three weeks ago. We shouldn't run into any more check points from here on out." Olsen answered taking the next turn.

"I'm just glad you know you're way around," Wilson was watching for more obstacles.

"By the way, how much Italian do you know?" Olsen causally asked looking at his friend.

"I can say spaghetti and pizza," Wilson answered with a grin.

"And I know how limited your German is, so stick to English. I'll explain it somehow to Franchetti. He's the big man and the one who will have to give his blessings to get the medication. You're a doctor, not a medic. Now Bassi is his right hand man, and he's going to ask you about some type of medical condition. He won't have a clue about it himself, but wants to make sure you're the real thing so he'll be expecting you to be able to spew out medical terminology. It doesn't matter what you say, just use a lot of big words," Olsen instructed as the town came into view.

"I can handle that. Been around medicine my entire life. My dad is a physician and I started making house calls with him when I was eight. Seen enough to be able to pass the more common things he'd ask. Who exactly are we going to see?" Wilson's eyes grew large as the car turned up a driveway with a huge home coming into view.

"Italian businessmen," Olsen answered as he brought the car to a stop. Two men walking the perimeter came up to the car watching the occupants. "Ciao**," he said as they stepped out the auto and then opened his coat to show he wasn't carrying a weapon. Olsen indicated for Wilson to do the same. "I have a buyer who needs some specialty items. I'm sure he'll be interested."

"Welcome back, the man isn't the only one who'll be interested in seeing you," the larger of the two guards chuckled as he allowed them to enter the house.

In the entry way Wilson was admiring the marble when someone ran by him and jumped Olsen.

* * *

*Have you asked your girlfriend for her hand in marriage?

**Hello


	5. Love Triangle

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

A young woman with long dark hair and dark eyes ran up to Olsen and threw her arms around him. "Derrick you're back! I've missed you," was all she said as they became locked in a deep kiss. Olsen stumbled backwards a couple of steps at the force of her embrace then he deepened his kiss. When they broke for air, he saw Wilson looking at them with a grin that meant he'd never live this down.

"My beautiful Ghita, I've missed you too," Olsen said stroking her hair then leaned in and whispered into her ear. "I brought you something special."

Her father smiled as heard his daughter's squeal of delight coming down the stairs. "I see we have company." He shook Olsen's hand and winked at his daughter. "I understand you've come on business. Let's move this into the office." He indicated for the men to follow him. His daughter let go of Olsen and left the men to their dealings. She knew her love would find her when the time was right.

Wilson felt a bit out of his element; obviously, this was the Italian mafia with deep roots in the black market that flowed between the two countries, even before the war. He knew that it was a business that flourished in wartime and wherever oppression existed, but wasn't sure how he felt about being involved with the organization. Although the Traveler's Aid Society used it from time to time, the people within the black market could turn on them at any moment. There might be honor among thieves, however, customers and the Allies weren't included in that equation.

"Before we get down to business, what did you bring my daughter?" Franchetti asked indicating for his guests to move farther into his office as he closed the door. He was a stout man with short gray hair.

"Just a little something I picked up in my travels," Olsen responded then pulled a small box out of his pocket handing it to the older man.

Franchetti opened the box admiring the contents. "It's beautiful and worthy to adorn my Ghita's neck. Although it's not the diamond she's hoping for," he said with a smile.

"I'm not worthy of giving her the diamond she desires. For now this is all I can offer," Olsen responded taking the necklace back. He showed it to Wilson; the necklace was a V-shaped with small diamonds and one larger stone in the middle. Then he safely placed it back in his coat.

Bassi was fidgeting and glaring at Olsen from behind his boss. How dare this no good German think he might steal the heart of Ghita! Soon, he'd have to put him in his place.

"Perhaps one day. Now tell me, why it is you've brought your friend to me?" Franchetti requested.

"Doctor Wiseman is in need of something special and time sensitive. I've told him if anyone would be able to fulfill his order it would you, sir." Olsen answered with respect.

"A doctor? Most unusual client," Franchetti said looking thoughtful. "Tell me what type of doctor are you?"

"A general doctor, I treat all types of illnesses and injuries," Wilson responded preparing himself mentally for the onslaught of questions.

"An American doctor? Quite interesting," Franchetti said checking Wilson out. "What brings an American to our part of the world?"

"Injured people in need of a physician," Wilson answered glancing at Olsen.

"Treating injured Americans?" Bassi demanded with a forceful approach taking a few steps forward. He was a tall imposing man, and used his physical demeanor to intimidate.

"Treating injured people," Wilson replied standing his ground; Olsen's words not to show fear resounding in his head.

"You've never questioned where buyers were from before. Is there a problem with an American doctor?" Olsen asked moving closer to Wilson.

"If you're really a doctor, tell me why my…" Bassi started but was interrupted.

"No, just interesting that an American is in this area. I have a cousin in America; someday I hope to visit him there. Not only have you brought me a client, but some valuable information for my organization. You've done well. Leave us, the doctor and I have some things to discuss in private," Franchetti ordered waving his hand for the others to leave the room. Bassi reluctantly relented, but warned Wilson with his a look to not upset his boss. Wilson swallowed hard watching Olsen walk out the door.

Once they were alone Franchetti continued, "Derrick vouches for you, which means you're trustworthy. He's always had a keen eye for good customers. The reason I wanted to speak with you alone, is that I'm in need of your services, but I trust this will be between you and me only?"

"Of course, I never discuss my patients with anyone," Wilson lied holding a straight face, hoping whatever it was he could handle.

"That's what I needed to know. I'm an old man and I don't have the dexterity I used to have. This is a bit embarrassing," he said sliding off his shoe after sitting down in his chair. "Earlier I got a nasty splinter under my toe and I can't get to it."

Wilson withheld the smile he was wearing inside as he took a look at his patient's injury. "I don't have my bag with me; do you have some tweezers and a sewing needle?"

"You should find everything that you need in the cabinet over there. So doctor, tell me what it is you need for your other patient." Franchetti settled back in his leather chair making himself comfortable.

After gathering the supplies, Wilson knelt down treating his patient forming his reply carefully. "I'm in need of an antitoxin for an indigenous spider bite, specifically for a Nocens Spinne, and time is of the essence." He stopped talking as he removed the splinter. "There we go, that was a nasty piece of wood. Keep the area dry and clean and watch for signs of infection, but it should heal without a problem."

"Thank you, it feels much better," Franchetti said wiggling his toes. "What you're asking for isn't an easy item to come by; however I just might be able to fulfill your order. I'm going to need a little time to check the inventory."

"When I say that time is of the essence, I mean that." Wilson tried to impress the urgency of the situation on the elder man.

"Don't worry doctor; I like you. I could tell you were good people the moment you stepped inside my home. Let me make some calls. In the meantime enjoy my hospitality. Derrick can show you around." Franchetti stood up and ushered Wilson out of the room then closed his office door.

Wilson walked through the living room then spotted Wilson and Ghita on the veranda. Grinning, he joined them outside. Olsen had just finished putting the necklace on the young lady, and she was obviously pleased with the gift.

"Will he be able to assist your patient, Dr. Wiseman?" Olsen asked as Wilson came outside.

"Mr. Franchetti believes he can get what we need and is making some calls. Ghita, that is a beautiful necklace. You're lucky to have someone who cares so deeply for you. How long have you been seeing each other?" Wilson asked with a smile that made Olsen squirm.

"We're not exactly a couple, but perhaps soon," she answered giving Olsen a hopeful look.

Olsen swallowed hard before speaking, "Until the war is over it wouldn't be fair to be in such a relationship. Hopefully the war will end quickly, and then we can all live the lives we dream about."

"Tell me, how did you two meet?" Wilson innocently asked Ghita.

"My father introduced us; Derrick was assisting him with his work. Father would like Derrick to become more involved with the family business. I think I'd like that because I could see more of him," Ghita's brown eyes sparkled.

"Like I said, perhaps when the war is over," Olsen said looking a little pale.

Ghita proceeded to tell Wilson about several of hers and Derrick's dates and the sweet things he'd done for her. She described all the gifts that Olsen had brought her from his travels, and was delighted to have someone interested in hearing the details of their relationship. The look in Wilson's eyes told Olsen he'd never hear the end of this back at camp.

An hour later, Franchetti came out of his office joining the trio. "Doctor Wiseman, I have good news. I've been able to locate the medicine you need and Derrick will take you to pick it up this afternoon." He handed Olsen the directions for the meet. "It won't be cheap, but I'm sure you knew that already."

"Yes, sir, I'm prepared to pay appropriately for the medication," Wilson answered with a relieved smile.

"Very well, let me know if there's anything else I can assist you in locating," Franchetti said. "Derrick, don't be a stranger. If you're in town, come by on Sunday, we're having a party."

"I will do my best sir. Thank you. We should be on our way to make the meeting," Olsen replied and leaned over giving Ghita a kiss on the cheek goodbye. Then he and Wilson left to make preparations for their appointment.

Bassi had been ordered to make sure the meet went off without incident. However, he saw his chance to get rid of the meddlesome German trying to steal his Ghita's heart, and having no love of Americans, the doctor could be taken out at the same time. He left to make his own arrangements.


	6. Family Matters

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

The pair made their way back to the cottage outside of Hammelburg with the medic questioning Olsen the entire way.

"So why have we not heard about Ghita? I think you two make a good looking couple," Wilson said with a sly grin.

Olsen let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes heavenward, "I should've come alone."

"Ah come on…what gives with her?" Wilson hoped to coax some information out of him.

"Ghita is a nice girl. But she's a means to an end. I have no intentions of ever joining the mafia, and that's what it would take to be with her. Stringing her along is a way to keep in contact with her father. He knows that I'm not good enough for his daughter. Although I've been profitable for his business; I've not proven myself worthy of family status. I'd never do what it takes to join the _family_. So Ghita gets nice gifts and that's all. Besides, Bassi is in love with her, and he's not someone I want to cross. Unfortunately, she doesn't share his affection," Olsen answered hoping it would bring an end to the conversation.

"That's kind of harsh for Ghita," Wilson answered feeling sorry for the girl.

"Things are hard everywhere," Olsen replied with cold reality in his voice.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're playing with her emotions?" Wilson questioned.

"I don't want to hurt Ghita, she's a wonderful lady. However, without Franchetti as a contact then we'd never been able to get the medicine to save the Colonel. I know she cares about me, and if there was another way to accomplish our goals without involving her I would. Unfortunately, London can't send us everything we need so we have to reach out to the black market," Olsen explained.

"That makes sense," Wilson paused and glanced over at Olsen. "So you're really not interested in her?" he asked taking in the new information.

"Nope," he answered not taking his eyes off the road as they came to the road block. Corporal Schmidt saw them and waved them through.

"Tell me, where did you get that necklace? It has to be worth a fortune!" Wilson asked still amazed by the piece.

"Newkirk picked it up at one of the parties in town," Olsen laughed, then with a hint of sadness in his voice said. "Ghita may love it, but I wish I could have given it to a woman who would have appreciated it."

"Who is this special lady in your life?" Wilson asked after they were safely through the check point.

"Her name is Mary and she's waiting for me back home," Olsen smiled thinking about her. "We've been together for a long time, and the first thing I'm going to do when I get back to the States is marry her."

"She must be special," Wilson smiled at the look on Olsen's face. A few minutes later he asked, "So what does it take to join the _family_ business?" he asked, curious.

"A hellva lot more than I'm willing to do. I prefer not to kill people unless the situation requires it for the war effort. There are better ways for civilians to settle differences," Olsen said pulling into the driveway of his home.

After securing the car in the garage the men made their way inside the house. Olsen opened the pantry, moving the food out of the way, then proceeded to remove the back panel exposing the radio. He made contact with Stalag 13 filling Kinch in on their progress and meeting set to obtain supplies from the black market. Kinch informed them that Newkirk was about the same, however the Colonel was deteriorating. He needed the medication straight away. Olsen promised they'd return with the antidote as quickly as possible.

Two hours later, Olsen and Wilson were overlooking the area where they were to meet their contacts, making sure they weren't walking into a trap. An hour later, a German military ambulance pulled up and two men in civilian clothes got out. One lit up a cigarette giving the signal Olsen had been waiting for. He and Wilson came out of their hiding place and walked over to the pair.

"Guten Tag, the Boss believes we might be able to do business," Olsen said causally protruding a calm exterior. On the inside, he wasn't composed; he was on high alert and anxious because he recognized both men. They were from a rival family known for their treacherous acts and discord between the two organizations. Bloodshed was common when both parties did business, and he had to wonder why the old man sent him out here without protection.

"Tag, that might be a possibility. What do you have to offer for our goods?" the shorter man inquired with a smile, but his eyes said he wasn't in a friendly mood. His companion stood arms crossed in an intimidating way never speaking.

"We'll need to see the merchandise first," Olsen said moving towards the back of the ambulance. As instructed Wilson remained two steps behind him.

The leader nodded his head and the other man opened the back of the vehicle revealing that it was filled with medical supplies. "It was an antidote that you are interested in?" The first man asked opening a box and pulling out a vial. Wilson stepped forward to inspect the bottle. "Not so fast, I need to see your collateral first."

Olsen took an envelope out of his coat pocket flipping through the marks, but didn't hand it over. "Once the doctor is satisfied, then we can discuss business." The man handed Olsen the antidote who in turn gave it to Wilson for inspection. The medic nodded his head to Olsen indicating it was the correct medication. "Where did you get all the supplies? We might be interested in additional goods."

"Let's just say that not everything slated for the front lines is really necessary for them to receive," came the answer with a smirk. His associate behind him gave a low chuckle. "Now about that payment."

Olsen removed half the money from the envelope and handed it over. The Italian took it then looked back at his partner giving him a nod. The larger man opened his coat revealing his gun, at the same time the leader drew his pistol. "I don't think you're going to need the rest of that money nor anything else from now on. We're not about to aid the Allies war effort!" he declared pointing his gun at Olsen.

Olsen reached up and readjusted his hat, "Is that so? No one said anything about the Allies. Wonder where you got that impression?" In one swift movement, Olsen grabbed the man's gun disarming him, took a half step backwards shifting his weight, as he brought his leg around he kicked the man in the head knocking him to the ground. Before his partner could react, a sniper's bullet rang out killing him instantly.

"Who shot him?" Wilson asked not believing what he'd just witnessed and looking around for trouble.

"That would be our backup, Kinch," Olsen answered as he waved his arm for the radioman to join them.

"I had no idea he was out here. I thought we were on our own!" Wilson's said breathing hard trying to get his heart rate to return to normal.

"Do you remember before we left camp that Kinch asked what was needed for this job, and I told him the usual? He's my backup when I'm on this type of mission," Olsen replied rolling both men looking for identification.

"That's right; I oversee all black market purchases from a sniper's advantage point. Are you two all right?" Kinch asked joining his friends.

"Yeah, we're fine. Thanks for the help," Olsen answered as he stood up looking at the pilfered documents. "These forgeries aren't as good as ours," he said shaking his head pocketing the papers.

Wilson had climbed into the ambulance looking at all the medical supplies. "What are we going to do with all of this? Seems a shame to waste it," he said thinking they'd be set for a long time with the stuff. He started opening a few boxes verifying their contents.

Olsen and Kinch looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. "Why don't we take it back to camp and you can sort it there?" Kinch suggested.

"Yeah, we can hide it until nightfall, then come back and then move everything into the tunnels," Olsen said watching the medic. He looked like a kid in a toy store.

"Sounds like a plan. Behind you!" Wilson suddenly shouted.

The men turned in time to see the gangster that had been knocked out reach for his partner's weapon. Olsen fired killing him before he could harm anyone. "Let's hide them and get out of here before we attract any unwanted company."

Kinch and Olsen hastily moved the bodies into the woods, not taking time to cover or bury the Italians. When they made it back to the ambulance, another man was standing there with an automatic rifle pointed their way.

"Now my suspicions have been confirmed. You are working for the Allies! It's too bad that you walked into a trap instead of a business meeting. Don't worry; I'll console Ghita over your death," Bassi declared raising his weapon to fire.


	7. An Unlikely Hero

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

"Bassi, why am I not surprised it was you who informed them about the connection to the Allies?" Olsen replied trying to figure out how to close the ground between them or pull his weapon before being shot.

"You were always the smart one," Bassi answered. "Hold it right there, that's close enough. Doctor, come join your friends." Wilson hesitated not moving from his seat in the ambulance. "Now doctor!" Bassi ordered waving his rifle at the heroes in a threatening motion.

Wilson looked down for a moment then slowly started to exit the vehicle. As he did he pulled his gun from behind him shooting Bassi, killing the man. Kinch and Olsen ran to the truck.

"Nice shot, doc," Kinch said leaning down to secure the weapon and make sure Bassi was dead.

"He shouldn't have tried to come between a medic and his supplies," Wilson answered jumping out of the vehicle. "Now what?"

"Let's get the hell out of here before anyone else shows up," Olsen said climbing into the front of the ambulance. His friends joined him and the trio sped away. Arriving as close to the tunnel entrance as they dared, Olsen let Kinch and Wilson out to take the medication to Colonel Hogan. He went to hide the ambulance and then make his way back to camp.

Wilson had been unusually quiet during the trip back to camp. "Are you all right?" Kinch asked him, genuinely concerned.

"I've never killed anyone before. I'm a medic. I'm supposed to save lives not take them," Wilson answered quietly. He looked down at his hands like they were on fire.

"The first time you take a life is always difficult, and something that you'll never forget. What you have to remember is that you did what you had to do to save lives. You saved me, Olsen, Colonel Hogan, yourself, and everyone else in camp. Those two would have bragged about killing Allies, and where do you think the Gestapo would have looked first for Allies needing medical supplies? As far as we know, Klink told Hochstetter about the Colonel being bitten. Even if he didn't, Klink has been calling around trying to find this antidote. It won't take long before they know that the Colonel was bitten by the spider, and make the connection. Then they would have come into camp killing us all," Kinch said. He knew what was bothering the medic, and it would take time for him to come to terms with taking Bassi's life. Kinch would make sure he was available for Wilson to talk it out in the coming weeks, until Wilson reconciled in his own soul what he had done.

"Thanks," Wilson responded as they came to the tree trunk. Both men made sure the coast was clear, then quickly made their way into the tunnel, and immediately heading to the infirmary.

Anderson was treating to his patients with LeBeau and Carter's help. He looked up when Wilson and Kinch entered asking with anticipation, "Were you able to get the antidote?"

Wilson answered positively as he took the vials out of his pocket then prepared the injection. "How are his vital signs?" he asked walking over to the Colonel.

"Weak," Anderson answered. "Hopefully, you got it here in time." Both medics shared a worried look as Wilson injected the Colonel with the antidote.

"Now all we can do is wait," Wilson said storing the rest of the medications in a safe place.

"How long until we know if it worked?" LeBeau asked with worry written all over him.

"A few hours, it's up to him at this point. If he's strong enough to fight it off, he'll be okay. If not…" he didn't finish the sentence. Everyone in the building knew how it could end. Then he checked on Newkirk, who was resting comfortably due to the morphine. His fever had spiked after being shot a second time.

"When the Colonel pulls through, what do we tell the Kommandant? He knows that the antidote couldn't be found," Carter questioned sitting back down by Newkirk changing the wet cloths to help cool him.

"That he was one of the lucky ones able to fight off the spider venom," Olsen answered joining them entering through the tunnel entrance to the infirmary. "The ambulance is secured until we can finish unloading it tonight." He handed Wilson a box of special supplies, which Wilson quietly placed in a locked cabinet with a smile.

Before evening roll call, Klink and Schultz entered the infirmary requesting an update on the patients. Wilson had just given Newkirk, who woke up in a lot of pain, a shot of morphine. "Kommandant, thank you for the medical supplies. Newkirk is holding his own. It will be a few days before he's up and about. Colonel Hogan seems to be fighting the infection, and I'm hopeful. The next few hours will tell," he answered.

"That's good to hear. I made some more inquires and found out a shipment of medical supplies that included the anti-venom were hijacked a few days ago by the underground," Klink stated standing near Hogan looking for signs of improvement.

"Oh what a terrible thing to do, hijack medical supplies. What is this war coming to?" Schultz said shaking his head sadly.

"I hope those supplies are put to a good use," LeBeau said wiping Hogan's face with a wet cloth.

"They could have been put to a good use here! The underground are nothing more than a bunch of thieves," Klink was emphatic waving his arms.

"Yes, sir," LeBeau answered contritely, thinking the supplies _were_ being put to a good use.

"I will allow one medic and one person to assist to stay the night in the infirmary. Everyone else will have to go back to the barracks after roll call," Klink ordered immediately hearing resistance from everyone in the room. "Sergeant Wilson, you may decide who stays."

"Thank you, sir. I'll take the night shift. Paul, you should get some rest and relieve me in the morning. Kinch, would you stay?" Wilson requested looking around at all the men.

"Did anyone get the name of the panzer tank that ran over me?" Hogan's voice was weak instantly drawing everyone around.

"Colonel, glad to have you awake. How are you feeling?" Wilson was instantly by his side checking his patient out.

"Hot. Thirsty. What happened?" Hogan croaked out. Olsen offered him some water for his dry throat which he gratefully drank.

"You and Corporal Newkirk were shot by a local farmer through the wire, and it seems you were bitten by a nasty spider sometime in the last twenty-four hours. You've given us a lot of concern today," Klink answered relieved to see his senior POW officer conscious.

"Shot? Newkirk okay?" Hogan asked trying to process what he'd been told.

"I'm fine, Gov'nor. It's you we've been worried about, sir," Newkirk responded raising his head to see Hogan awake for himself.

"Spider?" Hogan questioned looking confused.

"Yes, a particularly nasty one. I can't have spiders biting my prisoners, so I've arranged for all the buildings in the stalag to be fumigated over the next few days." Klink explained but Hogan had already fallen back to sleep. "Well it seems Colonel Hogan is improving. Schultz, take the prisoners back to the barracks and conduct roll call." He ordered as he left the infirmary.

Kinch watched the men leave the building before he spoke, a hint of merriment in his voice, "I bet Klink's quarters will be the first building that's sprayed."


	8. Secret Stashes

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

A half hour after lights out, Olsen, Carter, and LeBeau met up with Anderson in the tunnel. The four made their way to the ambulance, avoiding the night patrols along the way. Fortunately Klink had been too busy locating medical supplies that he hadn't thought of increasing the guards outside the wire. When the heroes arrived at the vehicle, they moved it as close to the tunnel entrance as safely possible, then proceeded to unload the boxes. After stashing the last of the supplies close to the tree stump, Olsen drove the ambulance to a fair distance away and then hid the vehicle again. When he made it back to his teammates, the majority of the boxes had been moved down below. He picked up a box carrying it towards the tunnel when he heard a loud thud and painful cry.

Dropping his box, Olsen instantly knelt down at Carter's side whispering, "What happen? Are you all right?"

Carter, closing his mouth tightly to not make a noise the guards would hear, shook his head no. By that time LeBeau and Anderson had returned to join them. "My….ank…ankle," he panted out holding his leg close.

Anderson gentle examined his patient. "It's a bad sprain. What's in these boxes we can use to wrap it?" Olsen and LeBeau quickly went through them and found bandages to use on the swollen limb and handed them to the medic. "Do you think you can stand on it?" He and Olsen helped Carter up. They quickly found out that Carter couldn't put any weight on the offended leg, so they carried him the short distance to the tunnel. After getting Carter down in the tunnel, Olsen returned to help LeBeau with the last few boxes. A few minutes later they joined everyone in the tunnel infirmary.

"How did you hurt yourself, mon ami?" LeBeau asked watching Anderson take a better look at his newest patient.

"I stepped in a hole and before I knew what was happening I'd fallen," Carter replied fighting back tears at the pain.

"It doesn't appear broken, but you won't be able to walk for a few days. At least we have the supplies to take care of emergencies now. LeBeau, can you get an ice pack and meet us upstairs?" Anderson requested from the Frenchman. "While you're doing that than we're going to put Carter in his bunk and elevate his foot," he added. LeBeau took off in search of ice as Olsen helped move their injured friend. After settling Carter in his bunk, Anderson gave him something for the pain. Satisfied his patient would be all right, the medic returned to his own barracks to rest. LeBeau and Olsen crawled into their respective bunks exhausted as well.

* * *

Schultz barged into barracks two waking everyone early the next morning. "Raus, raus, everybody out for roll call."

"Carter won't be able to come out to roll call this morning," LeBeau said rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Why? You weren't bitten by a spider were you?" Schultz asked apprehensively standing in front of the sergeant.

"No, I hurt myself last night and can't walk," Carter responded pulling the blanket back revealing the swollen limb.

"Mein G-tt, what did you do? Oh, it was more monkey business. You boys have to stop that because you're all getting hurt," Schultz said shaking his finger at the young man.

"I wasn't out doing any monkey business," Carter lied with a straight face.

"You weren't?" Schultz looked at him with a wary eye.

"No, I jumped down from the upper bunk and landed wrong." Carter explained without blinking.

"Where did you get the wrap for your ankle?" Schultz raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh I got that out of the tunnel for him. That's where we keep all the extra medical supplies, Schultzie," LeBeau answered then turned towards his hut mate. "Do you need anything before we go out?" Carter shook his head no. "I'll get you some more ice right after roll call."

"Secret tunnel, jolly joker!" Schultz scolded him as he hurried the men outside. "Carter, you stay there and I'll tell the Kommandant what's happened.

A few minutes later, Klink came marching into the barracks to make sure Carter wasn't trying to escape. He asked the Sergeant how he'd injured himself and received the same story Schultz had explained. "What is it with barracks two all the sudden? I have three injured prisoners." Gathering everyone's attention Klink ordered, "From now on, there will be no more injuries in this barracks. Is that understood?" 'Yes, sirs' were murmured by all the men. "Schultz, make sure the medic sees Carter," Klink said on his way out the door mumbling about how much more paperwork this meant for him.

"Schultz, I'm going over to the infirmary to relive Kinch, so I'll let Wilson know," Olsen told the guard as they both walked out the hut.

* * *

Wilson looked up as Olsen came in and with a grin said, "I knew you'd be the first one over here."

"You know me so well," Olsen responded, his face full of expectation. "Is it ready yet?"

"Yep, finished brewing a few minutes ago. Help yourself," Wilson laughed pointing to the coffee pot. "Kinch asked me earlier where I got real coffee. Had to let him in on our secret."

"I wondered what you'd handed him last night that he locked up so fast," Kinch said after taking a sip out of his cup. "How come you only give him the real stuff?"

Olsen chuckled before answering as he poor himself a cup of fresh java. "Well, it's always wise to keep the medics happy. Now isn't it?"

"What about keeping your radio operator and backup even happier? From now on, I want in on this deal!" Kinch replied with a grin.

"Talk to the medic," Olsen winked at Kinch. "You know how they can be when you're most vulnerable."

"Do you think I'd ever take advantage of my position as chief medic?" Wilson asked with mock horror.

"In a heartbeat!" Olsen and Kinch replied in unison. All three men laughed good-heartedly.

"How are the patients doing?" Olsen questioned.

Wilson proceeded to explain that Newkirk had a rough night, which was to be expected. Fortunately, being well supplied with medications, he'd been able to stabilize the Englander and keep him sedated most of the night. The Colonel had slept peacefully most of the night and his fever was subsiding.

"Kommandant Klink wants you to make a house call to barracks two this morning," Olsen started only to be interrupted.

"Paul stopped by here last night and told me. How was he doing?" Wilson asked walking over tossing a few things in his bag.

"He's not moving off his bunk for a while. Hopefully it won't take too long to heal," Olsen answered then drank the last of his cup. "What does the Colonel know about yesterday?"

"He doesn't know anything about our adventures, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for a couple of days. I don't want him stressed out anymore than he's going to be," Wilson said as he visually checked his patients. "If you don't mind keeping watch for a few minutes, Paul should be here soon." Olsen shook his head that he would stay. "Kinch, let's go make a house call."

Olsen escorted the men to the door and watched them walk across the compound. He turned around when he heard the Colonel's demanding tone. "**Who** was hurt and _how_?"


	9. Explanations

**Olsen's Secret Life**

**By**

**Jennaya**

* * *

"Colonel, how are you feeling, sir?" Olsen's asked, trying to dodge the question as he took a seat by his commanding officer.

The Colonel pushed himself up on the bed and stared hard at Olsen. "**Answer** the question, Sergeant," he demanded.

"Carter..." he began, then was interrupted.

"What 'appened to Andrew?" Newkirk questioned, carefully sitting up.

"He's going to be fine guys. Last night we were bringing in some medical supplies, when he stepped in hole and sprained his ankle. He'll be all right in a few days," Olsen reassured them, hoping that was all he had to reveal. No such luck.

"Now tell me everything that happened yesterday. Start at the beginning and don't leave anything out," Hogan ordered as he found a more comfortable position.

Olsen swallowed hard as he glanced at the door. _Where was Anderson?_ _He should have been here by now! _Wilson was not going to be happy, and Olsen didn't want to overburden the Colonel. Hogan cleared his throat loudly expecting an answer.

"What do you know about what happened yesterday, sir?" Olsen asked wondering where to start. Hogan and Newkirk explained they knew about the gunman and the nasty little spider. Olsen told them that London wasn't able to assist with a medical drop, so he went to his outside sources. Hogan didn't ask why London couldn't help, and Olsen wasn't volunteering that information. Kinch could explain that to him.

"Let me guess, Franchetti?" Hogan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, sir, he was the only one I knew who could get the medication in time," Olsen answered looking down at his hands.

"I trust your judgment. Franchetti wouldn't have been my first choice, but thank you for getting the antidote. As I understand it, I might not be here without it," Hogan said with heartfelt thanks.

"That goes for me too. The meds Wilson's been giving me have made a huge difference," Newkirk said as he stifled a yawn.

A moment later, Anderson entered the building carrying a tray of food. Olsen helped him pass the food out and the four men ate LeBeau's cooking making small talk. Once they'd finished, the medic checked Newkirk's shoulder wound and the Colonel's leg. Both injuries were beginning to heal, but it would be a several days before either patient could be released from the infirmary.

* * *

Klink sat behind his desk looking out the side window. It was unusual not to have Hogan barging into his office asking for something or ranting about something going on in camp. Most of the time Klink thought Hogan was just trying to irritate him or he was bored. Klink knew the Senior POW had to be bored all the time. Hogan wasn't the type to handle boredom well. So he became an irritating fixture in Klink's office. To have him so ill made the camp feel out of sorts.

Sighing he pulled out a prisoner injury report, his third in two days. Over the years there had been several severe injuries from men exiting the top bunks. However, there was no way his budget would allow for buying enough wood to make ladders for all the bunks. Then he remembered a request he'd received for a work detail. Pulling the paperwork out from the bottom of his in-basket, he decided to grant the request. The prisoners could use the wood that could be saved to make ladders. It would be a start and as other opportunities presented themselves he'd take advantage of them. Perhaps it would prevent some injuries and be less paperwork for him in the future.

* * *

Olsen tried to leave after breakfast, but Hogan wasn't finished with his debriefing yet. Anderson started to object, but the look Hogan gave the medic made him back down. Newkirk was drifting in and out of sleep not paying much attention to the conversation.

"Now what were you not saying about yesterday?" Hogan demanded, deadpanning Olsen.

Olsen swallowed hard before answering. "Wilson met Ghita and they hit it off fabulously. She happily told him about all our visits," Olsen's voice was tinted with annoyance. The Colonel had a smirk on his face knowing how that encounter had gone down. He was sure Wilson would be asking about Ghita for some time.

"What supplies were you able to get from her father and how much did it cost?" Hogan asked. His eyes wanted to close but he refused to give into sleep until he had more answers.

"We went after just the basics but ended up with enough stuff to keep our medics happy for a long time. An entire shipment bound for the frontlines," Olsen looked at Hogan who raised an eyebrow, definitely demanding more. "The Russo family had the antidote and Franchetti setup the meet. Unfortunately things didn't go smoothly and Kinch and I took out two of their thugs."

"That's not great, but it's not the worst either. It might even work in our favor in the long run," Hogan answered looking thoughtful.

"Sir, Bassi showed up. Long story short, Wilson killed him," Olsen explained, worried how that would go over.

"Wilson?" Hogan asked looking surprised. Olsen nodded his head yes. "That changes things a bit."

"I don't think Wilson had ever killed someone before," Olsen said concerned for the medic.

"Has Kinch spoken with him?" Newkirk questioned, rejoining the conversation.

"Yes, he has," Olsen answered. "And he spent the night in here helping Wilson."

"Good. If anyone can help Wilson through that, then Kinch is the man," Newkirk said. His mind was bringing up the first time he'd killed a man. The memory was something he'd never forget, even though it had happened many years before the war broke out.

"That's for sure. Kinch was able to help me after my first death," Olsen remembered with a far off look that he quickly wiped away.

"Thanks for letting me know. I'll talk to Wilson and make sure that Kinch is available for him anytime. That's one of Kinch's hidden talents that I've learned to lean on. Since your cover is in jeopardy, I don't want you outside the wire for a while, until we figure out what the fallout is going to be. Tell Kinch to pass off the other job London wanted done this week to the underground. They can handle it. We're down too many men, and I don't want anyone outside the wire for a few days," Hogan ordered as he lay back down.

Olsen left the infirmary so the patients could get some rest, and pass along the new orders. His mind wondered back to the first time he killed someone. When he flew with his bomber crew, he'd been the navigator, and although they killed people on each successful mission that was different. They never saw the bodies or damage done. Sometimes he wished he was still flying high and never had to see the destruction. When he got to Stalag 13, Olsen was a mess. He'd been a naïve young man, but that changed after the interrogations he was put through after his capture. Thanks to Hogan and the other men in barracks two, Olsen survived and learned to thrive again.

Before Carter joined them, when Olsen was outside the camp, he stayed in some caves not far away. One time he'd been out for two days and had one more day before he was due back. Everything had been going fine and he was enjoying his campout. Then a patrol found him in the cave. A German soldier decided to check the cave and walked in on him. Fortunately, Olsen was near the entrance and able to take hold of the man from behind. He cried out causing his partner to run inside. The partner tried to shoot Olsen, but hit his friend instead killing him. He got another shot off before Olsen shot him. Unfortunately, the bullet went through the soldier who Olsen was using as a shield, and into Olsen. With both Germans dead, he wrapped a field bandage around his arm and took off back to camp. He was able to avoid the patrols on the way back, but started losing a lot of blood. His only option was to use the emergency tunnel, even though the Colonel had expressly forbid them to use it. By the time he arrived at the entrance, he was feeling woozy from the blood loss. He remembered getting into the tunnel and that's when it all went black. Then next thing he knew he was on a cot, and Wilson was above him telling him that he was going to be fine. Most of the next two days he's never remembered, only hazy bits and pieces come through occasionally.

What he did remember was the smell of the bullet as it tore through flesh. A burning smell he thought he'd never get out of his senses. And the look in the soldier's eyes when he knew he was dying. He saw the life leave two men. He'd never seen death close up before or been the cause of it. That was the worst for him. Kinch somehow knew what he was feeling and had spent many hours talking him through it. After that incident was when Hogan decided they needed some place more permanent when he was outside the wire, and they bought his little house.

Olsen never learned how Kinch understood what it meant to kill a man with your own hands. When asked, Kinch would just shrug his shoulders and turn the conversation back onto the other person. Maybe he'd try again to learn Kinch's story, he thought as he entered barracks two.

* * *

A week later the three injured members of barracks two were well on their way to recovery. The rest of the team anxiously waited for Hogan to get off the radio with London. This was the first communication they'd had since London had imposed radio silence.

Hogan had cleared the tunnel so he could speak with the Allied High Command in private. Nearly thirty tense minutes later, he climbed the ladder to the barracks and gathered everyone around.

"What did ol' London have to say for themselves, sir?" Newkirk was the first to ask. All the others chimed in with similar sentiments.

"The decision they made was right," Hogan started only to be bombarded with comments of how could they let the Colonel down when he needed them most. Hogan held up his hands to quiet everyone down. "It seems that there was a mole in communications. From the conversations they'd intercepted, another drop was what this person needed to pinpoint our organization, and have us arrested by the Gestapo. I agree with what they did. The time wasn't the best, but it turned out alright."

"Blimey, I 'ope they have him on ice somewhere," Newkirk said shaking his head.

"Where they able to catch him, sir?" Kinch asked worried about the repercussions.

"Her. They've captured her," Hogan said only to be interrupted again.

"Her? Bloody hell," Newkirk looked bewildered. He lit up a cigarette.

"So were they upset about what happened outside the wire?" Olsen asked, confident he'd made the right decision. He had been mulling over everything that had happened the week before.

"No, they are just glad everything worked out and everyone is doing better, considering we had three men down. So now we are off the radio silence and can get back to work," Hogan said, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down at the commons table. The past week had been hard on everyone, but now things were getting back to normal and he could breathe easily again.

Olsen sat down next to his commanding officer. "Sir, are we safe?" Olsen asked, still looking a little scared from the whole mole in London thing.

"Yes Olsen, we are. Another cell has taken out the person she was reporting to in Berlin, so we're safe," Hogan explained to his stunned men. He looked at Olsen and said, "The restriction I gave to not go outside the wire has been lifted. You can now be the outside man again."

"Thank you sir," Olsen said, sighing deeply. He didn't want to let on to anyone, but he really wanted to go back outside the wire. He felt so claustrophobic in camp.

"Well, everything has worked out, thank G-d and we have a new assignment from London." Hogan said as he started briefing the men.

The End


End file.
